


Waiting for Amaya

by Lost_In_The_Muse



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Enemies to Friends, Gren's lonely, Imprisonment, Introspection, Random Updates, Runaan is a good listener, The Five Kingdoms, WIP, Waiting, Will add more tags as story developes, Xadia, fictional political commentary, he needs to fill the silence, heavy inspiration from Waiting for Godot, human kingdoms, if you've never read or seen the play you should, talking to pass the time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-08 15:39:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16432217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_In_The_Muse/pseuds/Lost_In_The_Muse
Summary: Gren wasn’t new to the waiting game, it was part of the job description right next to following his General’s orders to a T. But being thrown in shackles not even five minutes after General Amaya had left the castle grounds was certainly not part of the plan… Gren thought that Viren would have at least given it a day.





	1. That Passed the Time

Admittedly, it had only been a couple of hours. But by then, Gren knew his prison better than the back of his hand.

The spiral staircase directly in front of him made of thick stone slabs. He could count nineteen of them jutting out of the support pillar.

There were no railings though. If Gren was the one designing the place he would have added railings. The lack of any sort of barrier made it way too easy to fall off the side and get injured. He supposed it fit with the aesthetics of the dungeon but how hard would it be to put in some safety measures?

Then there were the two book shelves that didn’t contain any books. There were a couple of canvas bags and a couple of odd looking jars, but for the life of him Gren couldn’t figure out what they were for.

It was entirely possible that it was just some bits random wares that the usual dungeon warden had left here. But then again, Gren hadn’t seen Able at all since arriving at the castle. He usually sat in his little office behind Gren with the ring of keys that he would spin around on his wrists while his parakeet Georgie would try to sing along to the jingling.

Gren didn’t really have much mobility in his position, and he could only crank his neck around so far, but the utter silence from the room behind him was telling. He couldn’t even hear Georgie’s feet scratching against his metal perch.

He figured Lord Viren was the one responsible.... Firing the warden…

At least he hoped Able was only fired, or simply assigned to a different position…

Magic torches! There were magic torches there too, with weird blue glowing crystals sitting atop the wooden handle things.

Gren couldn’t really remember the exact name of those crystals. They did a good job lighting up a room that was so far down underneath the castle, but Gren would have just gone with regular fire.

There was a torch near his left hand next to the doorway to Able’s old office space. It may have been a great light sources but it did nothing to warm up the chilly air of the dungeons.

Gren was half convinced that it was actually sucking the heat _out_ of the musty atmosphere. Even with all of his layer and the armor, Gren could practically feel frost forming on the tips of his ears.

Which was crazy, right? It was the middle of summer. It shouldn’t have been this cold.

Actually, that was probably how those magic torches worked. Converting heat into light. Gren wasn’t even sure if that was right but then again, magic didn’t really make sense to him. He wasn’t a mage.

Either way, the magic torches still sucked. And there were four of them in the room which really didn’t help much.

Two were mounted on the wall on the wall on the far left, illuminating the stacked barrels and on of the bookshelves. Another one was right next to him, and the last was nestled between a niche with a statue inside it and the entrance to the corridor across from him.

The main body of the dungeon where the prisoners were actually supposed to be held.

Gren didn’t know why Viren didn’t throw him into one of the cells. Unless they’d somehow managed to fill up all twelve of the empty cells in the two months Gren had been at the Breach, there should have been some room.

It would have been much more comfortable to have a cell where he could walk around and stretch his legs then have to be stuck in the lobby area with his arms chained to the wall.

He’d only been there for three- maybe four hours but his knees were locked and his legs were getting numb and tingly.

With a grimace, he kicked his left foot out a couple of times to try and wake the limb up. Then he did the same with his right.

It helped a little, but not by much. He’d kill to have a chance to sit down and just stop standing for a little while.

Gren blinked his eyes. And idea popped into his head.

Carefully, he leaned forward. The chains around his wrist creaking in protest with the movement as he hopped both his feet up against the wall.

Instantly, relief shot through his legs as they had a moment's rest. And then he winced in pain.

The cold metal cuffs cut into his flesh as his wrists supported his entire weight. Gren could only hold the position for a couple of moments before his feet slammed back down onto the floor.

“Nope, not good. Not a good idea.” he muttered to himself, rotating his shoulders.

The Lieutenant heaved a sigh and leaned back against the wall.

Lord Viren said that he would meet with him at nine right? The mage would come in the morning.

There was nothing Gren could do but wait it out for now.

 


	2. Your Worship Wishes to Assert his Prerogatives?

The dungeon was dead quiet the entire night save for the occasional rattling of his chains. No one came and nothing moved. 

It made it nearly impossible for Gren to bring his guard down enough to even rest his eyes for a couple of minutes. 

The whole situation was unsettling. 

Where were the guards? There should have been at least a couple of them down there to guard the perimeter and ensure that a prisoner like Gren wouldn’t escape. 

It had been a while since he’d been stationed at the castle, but he could still remember the schedule of rotations. 

There should have been at least two people in the dungeons in addition to the warden during the night shift. One stationed in the north corridor and the other in the south corridor. The warden was supposed to make his rounds, ensuring all of the prisoners were where there they were supposed to be. 

But there were no guards and there was no warden. 

Only silence and the eerie glow of the blue torches. 

Which was why Gren zeroed in on the sound of echoing footsteps like a moth to a lamp. 

The Lieutenant suppressed a spike of hatred that shot through him at the sight of Lord Viren turning the corner. 

“Five past nine, I apologize for my tardiness.” The mage said as he approached. 

Gren took a deep breath. He had to be professional about this. 

“It was only five minutes,” Gren replied, steeling himself. Forcing the unadulterated rage at the situation and the untamable fear for the two young princes deep into the depths of his unconscious mind.

Lord Viren clasped his hands around his staff, “Sow, what are your concerns?” 

“Well,” Gren cleared his throat “you took me off the mission.” he started off. 

The Mage nodded with a fake air of understanding. “Noted. Go on.”

“And... you threw me in this dungeon.” 

Once again, Lord Viren nodded. “Ah, I see.” he said as if he were taking Gren’s grievances seriously. “Anything else?” 

“Uh,” Gren said as he glanced around the room, eyes darting from the Mage, to the top of the stairs, and back to the mage again, “No, well-no. I guess those are the main two.” 

Lord Viren hummed, “Thank you-”

Gren resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“-Your feedback is a gift.’ 

Ok, he had enough. Gren opened his mouth to let out a biting remark, but before he could even say a word, a figure appeared in the corridor in front of him. 

“Father?” she asked, peering into the room uncertainty. Lord Viren turned around.

Gren narrowed his eyes and pulled at his restraints. 

Was that Claudia? How did she get there? He couldn’t remember her coming down into the dungeons. Maybe through the passage that Lord Viren had used but surely Gren would have seen her enter the northern corridor. 

“It’s about our other prisoner.” 

The Lieutenant inhaled sharply. His muscles tensed. 

There was another prisoner? 

Lord Viren turned his head back and stared down at Gren. “Right then,” he said with a polite tilt of his head, “Duty calls. You are dismissed, Lieutenant.” And with that said, he followed Claudia out. 

Gren clenched his fists but refused to bow his head. 

Alone once again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since these chapters are short, you'll find that I'll be updating this fic frequently. I upload chapters when I finish them and given the low commitment in writing them I hope to be updating this a lot more than my other fics. I know there are a lot of similar ones to this but I'm trying to make this different from the others in that I am not going to skip directly to a jailbreak or Runaan being sucked into a coin (if either of those things are going to happen in the first place) I want to get more of an in depth look at how their relationship would develop under these circumstances. 
> 
> I would like to give a shoutout to calypso_pond_witch_of_knowledge who was the only person to comment on this fic both on AO3 and on Fanfiction.net where I have posted this story on. You have my eternal gratitude. And thank you to all who left a Kudos and gave my story a shot!


	3. In the Meantime Nothing Happens

Two days.

    Gren had been locked up in the dungeons for Two. Whole. Days.

    And quite frankly, he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t slowly starting to lose it.

    Being alone in the dungeons gave him a lot of time to be alone with his thoughts, not something Gren liked to do.

But he had training.

    Give his name, rank, service number, and date of birth. Nothing else.  

    He knew what to do when captured by the enemy.

    Granted, the ‘enemy’ in all of the training scenarios he’d ever participated in were the Elves and occasionally another Human Kingdom. Gren couldn’t remember a single time when they went over what to do in the event that someone from within the now deceased King’s court stages what was quite frankly an illegal claim to the throne with only a handful of people trying to stop him.

    Probably because it was treasonous to even think in those terms, therefore there were no protocols or plans set in place in such an event.

    Now that he thought about it, that was exactly what Lord Viren wanted.

    In fact, there had never been a more perfect time for the Mage’s power grab.

    The King was dead, the Princes taken captive by the very Moonshadow Elf Assassins that had carried out the deed, the increase in Elven activity since the death of the Dragon King stirring up fear and panic of an escalation of the centuries old arms race.

    It wasn’t enough that the interspecies war was worsening in recent years, there was also the fact that Katolis couldn’t afford to show weakness.

    Everyone and their dog’s knew that Katolis’s significance among the Human Kingdoms was that it was not only the strongest Kingdom on this side of the continent, but it was also a buffer state. The first line of defense against the forces of Xadia.

    Historically speaking, every major battle between the Human Kingdoms and Xadia happened on Katolis land. And the other Kingdoms knew this. It was why they lent Katolis troops, money, and supplies so freely.

    If Katolis fell, the rest of the kingdoms would not be far behind them.

    And if the worst of the fighting could be contained in one section of the Human side of the continent -especially in a territory not in their own Kingdom- the destruction of war wouldn’t reach those Kingdoms that didn’t border Xadia. That would be an added plus for them.

    So the other four Kingdoms would come to Katolis’ aid whenever necessary, and the responsibility of defending the path to the other Human Kingdoms rested on Katolis.

    But now there was no King, and the disappearance of the two young Princes has left the future of Katolis’ political stability murky and uncertain.

    Gren was a soldier. He didn’t study politics for a living, nor did he have a decent grasp of the complexities of international relations.

But he could think of two ways that the situation would go down if someone didn’t step up to lead Katolis in this period of unrest.

The other Kingdoms could withdraw their troops and cut off Katolis, following the reasoning that the Kingdom of Katolis was falling apart at the seems and it would be better to bolster their own borders than defend a lost cause.

That was one possibility.

But another, more likely scenario if you asked him, would be that the other Kingdoms would try to install their own puppet governments in Katolis. It would certainly be a desperate, but not unprecedented act. It would keep the border between the Human Kingdoms and Xadia at the Breach, and the land under Katolis’s rule would remain in Human hands as opposed to the Xadian’s.

However Gren could only imagine that happening if they couldn’t find the princes. The _rightful_ heirs to the Throne of Katolis.

    Lord Viren, by no means was in the right to try and hold a coronation for himself immediately after the death of King Harrow, and his offer of Regency to General Amaya was shaky at best given his recent behavior.

    But Gren agreed that he did have the right idea although his intentions were anything but.

    Katolis needed a show of strength after such a devastating blow to its power. But the Kingdom would not reassure it’s neighbors of its ability to continue strong in the face of hardship with Lord Viren on the throne.

    They needed the boys. They needed General Amaya’s nephews. They needed the Princes of Katolis, home, protected, safe and sound.

    There would be no better show of strength than to prove that Katolis had the capabilities to hunt down the unhuntable Moonshadow Elves and rescue the Princes.

    And Gren was going to bring them home.

    He promised Amaya, and he swore on his parent’s graves.

    Gren was going to bring them home. No matter the obstacles, no matter the personal costs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys it's been a while. But to be fair though, this last week has been an anomaly. I've been traveling a lot and haven't had time to sit down to actually write (which is quite frankly seriously hurting my Nanowrimo word count) but here is another chapter! Longer than the last one and perhaps even a little bit more interesting. 
> 
> I'm really curious about the other four Human Kingdoms that haven't been mentioned yet in the show. They kind of just mentioned them in passing and that's it. Even though I was planning on having some Gren and Runaan Interaction here, I just really wanted to explore the possible International Relations that the Kingdoms might have from what little information I could find about them on the Dragon Prince Wiki. Hopefully we get some more info on them in the next season because there's just so much potential. 
> 
> Also I made Gren an orphan in this fic. I don't know about canon (and honestly we really don't know much about him) but in this fic his parents were soldiers who died at the border. 
> 
> And on that happy note, I'll see you all in the next update!


	4. Time Flows Again Already

Gren had taken to whistling to pass the time.

He couldn’t really think of much else to do.

Well, planning an escape was priority number one but he couldn’t twist his mind enough to squeeze out a decent enough plan that could feasibly work.

So muted humming it was. Perhaps if he could hear some melodies, that could get the creative juices flowing.

He started off quietly, his voice so low that he could barely hear the lullabies himself. Gren got through four verses before he dared raise his volume to a whisper.

And then soon enough, Gren was singing.

He sang an old campfire song his parents would sing with him on the camping trips in the woods they took whenever they were home. He sang a few marches and bellowed out a couple songs that the soldiers in his unit would sing to keep their spirits up.

He sang about the mountains, the changing tides, the brisk autumn air, the glittering lights, the balance of light and dark.

He sang about dogs, he sang about cats. He even dug down deep into the trenches of his mind to remember the lyrics to some old nursery rhymes he used to like back before he was even old enough to even lift a training sword.

And suddenly-

-His voice died down. The foot he had been tapping along to the beat of a song about crab apple trees and milkweeds ceased to move. Gren fell utterly still, and silent.

There was a rattling of chains. Then a painfully quiet groan.

The other prisoner.

Gren didn’t know what to do about this mysterious other prisoner that Lord Viren was keeping.

Whoever it was, there must have been a reason for them to be down here.

Could have been a good reason, like them being a political prisoner. If they had been a seriously dangerous criminal, they would have been sent up to the facility in the northern mountains where security was just as strong, if not stronger than the security around the castle.

But King Harrow wasn’t holding anyone as a political prisoner at this time. Certainly not any human political prisoners from any of the neighboring kingdoms. Not while the Five Kingdoms were in the long and arduous process of hashing out a new trade deal.

King Harrow had let all of the political prisoners held by Katolis go as a show of good faith to the other kingdoms to get them to all agree on it.

However, it seemed as though Lord Viren had reversed this policy, even though it would be political suicide to do so while the international community was monitoring the situation in Katolis so closely…

… But maybe it wasn’t a political prisoner from outside of Katolis. It was entirely possible -in fact, highly more likely- that this was a Katolian prisoner. Someone who may have been standing in Lord Viren’s way to power.

Like Gren was.

Straightening himself out, Gren rolled his neck and arched his back. A series of cracks riveted his spine in perfect harmony with the clinking of his armor.

He glanced back up at the doorway across from him, partially hidden by the spiral stone staircase.

“So, what’s your story?” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok yeah, this is the shortest chapter yet in a fic where the chapters are already so short, not to mention it's been more than a week since the last update. But to make up for it I am announcing an official schedule for updates! I will be uploading a new chapter for this fic every SATURDAY and WEDNESDAY and any time in between if I finish writing up a chapter. Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter and I would like to thank everyone who commented on this story! Your reviews are the true drivers behind this fic :D

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be working on my other stories but I binge watched The Dragon Prince while I was sick and I just had to write something, I am absolutely in love with this show and I NEED more episodes but fanfiction is the best substitute I can get right now. 
> 
> The play "Waiting for Godot" by Samuel Beckett is a huge inspiration for this fic, and if you've ever read the play you have a pretty good idea of the plot of this story. But if it's all the same to you, it is still very different from Beckett's work. 
> 
> Please don't hesitate to leave a comment/review. Feedback is the greatest motivation you can give to an Author, if you want to see more of this story please please please let me know in the comments and just tell me what you liked about it.


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